


This Is My Design

by SomebodyHelpWillGraham



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gore, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Mutilation, Porn With Plot, Rape, Smut, Suicide, Violence, dark!Will, dubcon, noncon, trigger warning, twisted hannigram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1528760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomebodyHelpWillGraham/pseuds/SomebodyHelpWillGraham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very dark Will has had enough of Hannibal's manipulation.  It is kind of a self-insert, but only if you are Hannibal.  My first dubcon work.  Trigger warning: murder, rape, violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is My Design

**Author's Note:**

> Note: the Lithuanian translates to "No, please stop."

"With my hands", I had told you.  That is how I would want to kill you.  And here I am, doing just that. I could not take it any longer. I have been falling right into place in the story you have created. Every action of mine had been influenced by what you have done and said to me, up to this point. When you left me behind and traveled to France, I decided I would go and find you. I found you alright.

I thought it would be much more intimate than a gun, doing it this way, and I was certainly right.  I straddle your hips to keep you down, but it brings out a new feeling in me.  Suddenly, your neck is not the only thing I want my hands wrapped around. I shift my hips, intentionally grinding against you.  I love the reaction it draws out.  I slip my hand underneath the waistband of your pants, pulling out your hardening cock.   You bite your lip to stifle a moan. I know you want this, though you struggle. You have been teasing me all along, seducing me. But now, it is my turn. And no matter how much you deny it, I can tell from how your body reacts that you want this. You cannot deny me any longer.  I finally have control over you.  

Hands still wrapped around your neck, I lean down to kiss you, my tongue helping to aid the suffocation process.  I bite your lip until I taste blood.  I tug my own pants below my knees, my boxers going  with them.  I lower yours a bit more as well.  You try to stand up, but I push you down onto your knees.  I let go of your neck for a moment, only to shove my cock between your pursed lips.  You gasp slightly, though the small amount of air isn't enough to satisfy your deprived lungs.  I moan.   I grasp your hair tightly, shoving myself further down your throat.  Your tongue moves against the head of my cock, appeasing me, in hopes that I may stop.  I don't.  You deserve this.

When I feel my orgasm approaching, I pull myself out of your mouth.  I force my lips against yours and press my tongue into your mouth again.  I taste your salty tears on my tongue as they drip down.  I do not feel any remorse.  I pull you back up by the hair, bending you over my table.  I don't waste my time with any sort of preperation.  I force myself into you, hands moving back to your neck.  You choke out a few words in Lithuanian, but I understand them. "Ne, nustokite!"  You cry out. You have lost the abilty to remember languages other than your native tongue. It is working. You are losing control.  You start to cough, and my hands only tighten.  I thrust hard into you.  You slowly start to lose consciousness.  As I orgasm, you take your last breath.

I pull out of you, and I lay you down across the table.  You still look just as beautiful as when you were alive.  I cut you open, breaking your ribs away.  The cutting is precise and careful, just like you would have done with me had the situation been reversed. I take out your heart.  And oh, how nice it feels to hold it in my hands. Blood is spilling out between my fingers, over my hands. It stains my white shirt in bright crimson. I will keep this shirt as a memory. I had been waiting for this moment. I press a gentle kiss to your cold lips.  I do not regret what I have done.  

Finally, the story you have been narrating comes to an end. For a moment, I think, this is my design. But then, I hear sirens quickly approaching. The door breaks open. We are no longer alone, and I am covered in your blood, naked from the waist down. This was your design all along.


End file.
